Come All Ye Little Children

Orange flames crackled in the fireplace. A long stemmed glass of red wine sat beside the warm glow. October’s arrival brought an ominous chill rather than cheer this season. Quiet often brought back cruel memories, so Julie Harrison decided to attempt to end the silence. Her black violin rested against her shoulder. Her fingers stretched over the crimson strings, but she couldn’t hold the cords.

“Dammit,” Julie hissed. She took a long sip of wine, before stretching her left hand. It was still sore even though the bruising was long gone. The violin in her hand made her heart ache for a time when it brought her happiness, not pain. She longed for a time when she didn’t have to drink alone.

“You have been cooped up with that damned piece of wood for weeks. Come out for an hour!” The redhead from next door pleaded. “If I hear another ancient song through the wall, I will go on a murder spree. Save lives tonight?” Her smile was warm. Julie searched her eyes for a reason to say no. Those gray eyes only held happiness, and she couldn’t resist a taste of fun.

A sudden bang on her front door almost caused her wine to stain the floor. She put the glass down and stood, turning on several more lights as she neared the door. “Whose there,” she called out. No one should be on Mason’s Hill at this time of night. Katherine didn’t have many friends, nor did she like people coming onto her property after dark. However, Julie’s aunt, Katherine, had been dead for a year now. “I said whose there!” She was answered with another robust clattering.

The door lock clicked out of place before she cracked open the door. A chain held it from opening completely as she peaked out. Four angry women stood on her porch. “Who are you?” She questioned.

“Where’s my son?” The largest of the women growled.

“What?”

“Where is my kid?” The woman’s hand slammed against the door.

“There aren’t any children here,” she retorted, pushing the door closed.

“Wait, Julie,” a small woman begged. Her eyes were tearful; her hands folded over her chest. “Please, just hear us out?”

Julie closed the door, removed the chain, and opened it. “I remember you,” she said as she stared at the five-foot tall woman. Her deep brown eyes were so full of pain. “I used to hang out with you when I came to visit…” Julie trailed off, shaking thoughts of her late aunt from her mind.

“That’s right; when you visited Katherine we played together. I still live just down the hill, but something has happened.” She folded her hands together as if she prayed while bowing her head.

“Hannah, right? What’s wrong?” Julie questioned.

The larger woman barged between Hannah and Julie. A permanent scowl lingered on her features. “George Miller said he dared my Bobby to come up to your house. He’s been gone for a day and a half, and no one questioned you.”

“I don’t know the Millers,” Julie retorted. “And I haven’t seen any children.”

“Please,” Hanna begged. “Just tell me where Beth is? I promise I won’t be mad as long as she’s okay.”

Julie stepped back; shock filled her as these women glowered at her, begging for answers. “I haven’t seen your children. No one has come to this door since I moved in a year ago.” She spat and slammed the door. What a way to be neighborly?

A bruise lingered on her cheek, her left hand was swollen and black, but she needed to be here. The lawyers announced Katherine’s will one month ago, after Julie was released from the hospital. She couldn’t afford to go back to her apartment; she didn’t want to move back in with her parents.

People lurked on their porches below the two-story house. Mason’s Hill, ten acers of a steep hill that plateaued into the woods, belonged to Julie’s family for generations. The dark brick house deserved someone to take care of it, and it held happy memories for Julie. None of the neighbors waved at her or offered to help her move. This was the seclusion she craved.

She cringed as another bang echoed through the house. The bolted lock clicked into place; she was safe. Her glass of red wine lost its chill, but she downed it anyway. It wasn’t enough to ease her troubled mine. Questions lingered, swirled through her.

“What happened to those kids?” Julie asked herself.



Rain pounded against her bedroom window. Dreariness loomed over her room just as the clouds shrouded the sun. She tossed and turned most of the night, thinking of the children. Those weren’t the first to go missing around this area…

Hannah Morgan wound a long strand of honey blonde hair between her fingers. “You said you knew a secret,” Julie complained. She shivered in the October morning air. The only reason she dragged her eight-year-old mind away from the prospects of pancakes was Hannah’s secret.

“Franklin went missing. I heard the police talking to his mom this morning,” Hannah confessed. Her sad brown eyes overwhelmed Julie.

“What happened to him?” Her shivering wasn’t caused by the chilled air.

“Joey said he saw him near the creek at your aunt’s house.” Hannah stared again for a long moment. “Did you see him?”

“No!” Julie stood from her spot on a freezing rock. “What are you saying, Hanna?!”

“They say your aunt is behind the last four disappearances. Franklin, Ruth, Tommy, and Maggie are gone. Not to mention Maggie’s brother went missing two weeks before she did.”

“I didn’t not Maggie, her brother, or Tommy. Why do people keep accusing us? There’s no one on that hill besides Aunt Kat and me!” Julie stomped away from her friend, anger dripping into her veins.

She moved downstairs. Coffee might turn her memories, but those women had no right…

‘KNOCK… KNOCK…’ “Miss Harrison, it’s the Mason Creek police. Can I have a word with you?”

Julie hesitated on the stairs for a moment before she rushed to the door. She opened it a fraction, the way she did last night. “Badge?”

“What?” The officer questioned.

“Let me see your badge, ID, something.” Julie’s voice was a low croak, but she wasn’t about to invite a stranger into her house with people accusing her of things.

A black leather, tri-fold wallet appeared before her eyes. Silver metal with the words ‘Sherriff’s department’ printed across the top centered the wallet, and next to it was a driver’s license. Ethen Cross. “Sorry about that; so many people around here know me, I forget some don’t.”

Julie closed the door, unchained it, and opened it again. “How long have you been out there?”

“Fourth knock’s a charm.” Ethen nodded, wiped his feet, and stepped inside. “You just get up?”

She looked down and her wrinkled black t-shirt and stripped pajama bottoms. Smoothing out her shirt, she nodded. “I’m in dire need of coffee, so do you mind?”

“Only if you’re sharing,” he said before closing the door behind him. They started toward the kitchen. “I’m here because…”

“You’re here for the same reason those women were, for the children. Right?” She glanced back at him as they entered the kitchen.

“What women?” He stared blankly at her. She filled the coffee pot with water before emptying it in the back of the coffeemaker.

“Hannah Morgan and three other women stopped by, blamed me for their kids’ disappearances.” She shrugged and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. “No one appreciates being accused of something by people that never welcomed them in the first place.”

“Did they mention George Miller?” Ethen asked as the pungent aroma filled the room.

“He’s why they came.” Julie glanced out her window. Something dark moved near the tree line at the back of her house. A large dog or bird, maybe? “Why would that boy say anyone was here?”

“I looked into several of these cases, Miss Harrison; all of them have this house as a connection.”

“Julie…” she sighed. “My name is Julie, and this town has accused my family for years. First witchcraft, then kidnapping, and what’s next? I didn’t invite anyone onto my land, nor did I see any children playing around.”

“You might not have, Julie.” He crossed his arms. “From what I understand, you’re on high quality pain medication…”

“Julie!” She screamed. Red curls swarmed the car. “I’ll go get help!”

“My hand…”Julie whimpered. “I’m stuck! Get me out of here.”

“I’ll come back…”

“I’m on anxiety meds too; what’s that got to do with disappearances?” She rolled her eyes and poured him a cup of coffee.

He wrapped his hands around the mug, watching her with searching eyes. His eyes were green like her friend’s. “They say you used to play violin. Now, you’re on fancy medication.”

“I was in a car accident,” Julie hissed. She held up her left hand. “They said I might never regain flexibility in my hand, not enough to play again, but I try.”

“What happened in that car, Julie?”

“That’s none of your business.” She glared at him. “I think I want you out of my house.”

“Just one more question,” Ethen let go of the steaming cup. “Didn’t they find the Engleton boy in those woods?” He pointed toward the window she stared out moments ago.

Red and blue flashed through the kitchen windows. Aunt Kat stood outside on the deck yelling. Julie couldn’t understand her words over the baying hounds and the shouting officers. The world seemed to darken before one of the policemen popped out of the brush and shouted, “There’s a body!”

They couldn’t get a gurney to him. After they took their obscene photographs, a man carried him out in a white sheet. Julie could see the bloodstained fingers peeking out. They placed him on the bed, a piece of the sheet fell from his face, and she saw his black hair and puffy cheeks. She saw him well enough to understand what they found… Bobby Engleton.

“I don’t remember.” She moved passed him toward the door. “But I do remember saying I wanted you out of my house.” She flung open the door to see Hannah’s large friend in the doorway.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her? Search the place?” The large woman bellowed.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong…yet.” Ethen retorted. “Have a nice day, Julie.”

“I won’t be doing anything wrong.” She slammed the door in their face.